Another World
by Romionie
Summary: Fred reviews his life and the defining moments in it.  Set after Fred's death in book 7
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Another World.

F-R-E-D W-E-A-S-L-E-Y. Names and faces. That is all I remember. Happiness, Joy, Love. They stem from some names. Pain, Fear, Grief. They stem from others.

V-O-L-D-E-M-O-R-T. Pain, intense pain comes from that name. Inescapable fear, it fills you up and suffocates you until you can hardly see. From one word, the root word, many other words emerge. D-E-A-T-H E-A-T-E-R-S. Billions of them, overwhelmingly powerful and unforgivably ruthless. Their blanket of secrecy and death is impossible to penetrate. Even now, in another world, the fear and pain are very much still present and almost tangible. The fear is too much to bear. Every second (or year, time is hard to understand here) the pain grows and every second my spirit fails. Why do I go on?

How did I do it? How could I cope? This watered down version of the world is so difficult to bear. There must have been something back in the real world that gave me strength. Something that protected me from the evil that constantly licked at my feet. How? There must have been something.

W-E-A-S-L-E-Y... What does it mean? M-O-L-L-Y , A-R-T-H-U-R , G-E-O-R-G-E , A-N-G-E-L-I-N-A. With every word a new light appeared, a Blinding light that banishes all darkness. The light of Love. So much light that it ripped through shadows, filling me up with hope and pride. Each name brighter and more powerful than the ones that came before. Now I understood. Every name or even every person, that is what they are, had done so much for me or had given me so much that I would give up my life in an instant. Actually, looking back, I don't quite remember anything of my life, only the most pivotal moments. The rest have to be unlocked. But the one thing that I do remember is my last few moments. The last thing I remember is my brother. His face, just his face, peering down at me with a contorted smile of grief and pride. That was the moment when we finally knew what we meant to each other. Waves of fear and pain were flowing all round up mixed with pride and respect. Me and my brother were in our element. I was somewhere that meant allot to me. Somewhere that I had spent so much of my life and that I cared so much for. The place was called H-O-G-W-A-R-T-S. The death eaters were everywhere, killing my dearest friends and destroying the only other place that I could call home other than my actual house. The blood was pumping through my veins faster than I thought it could. The adrenaline that flowed through us was immense. The only thing that I cared for more than stopping every miserable idiot that laid a single finger on the school, was my brother and the people closest to me, but my brother mostly. He had given me the most out of anyone. Every good memory that I possess includes him and every feeling of pride or happiness has come from something he has said or I have done with/ for him. I remember diving across the floor when I heard a sound on the other side of the wall. I saw the wall collapsing before anyone else could, but rather than run away I looked to my brother. He had not yes noticed what was happening and I realised that the rubble was about to land on top of him. It was going to kill him. Rage took me over. Ho could life be so cruel. I could not let him die, so I jumped. Time stood still for the short amount of time that I spent in the air. I noticed the intricacy of the patterns on the floor, such beauty I had hardly ever seen, yet I had walked over that patch of ground year after year for the best part of my life. I remember the colours and shapes on every patch of the wall, every nook and cranny that filled the corridor. Every impurity that made this place so pure. Time seemed to slow right down. I saw year after year of students flooding through the corridor. A rabble of carefree young witches or wizards. I saw the building of the school, the four founders in all of their glory. They were the closest thing to deity for wizards besides Merlin. Lastly I saw my brother and me, walking, strolling, creeping and sprinting along said corridor. Every time we had crossed this very place. I never thought it would come to this but, somehow I'm glad. I cannot think of a more noble death than to die for someone that I love, especially my brother. My "partner in crime." The boulders sliced through my skin and into my heart but I didn't feel them. My heart was so full of pride. I spent my last moments lying in the arms of my brother, his love and grief clearly readable on his face like his emotion always were for me. I cannot think of a better death. My separation from him gave me an overwhelming sense of sadness but my bond with him grew stronger exponentially due to the pride of my sacrifice.

He is still there. I can feel him and I am with him. I will be with him forever until he finally comes to be with me. I am with them all. Everyone that loves me and cares enough to die. The bonds formed in life are made so much stronger in death. It is said "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and that can be said but I am not truly gone. Not from George and not from Angelina. Only she could hope to compare to the feelings I hold high for my brother. A-N-G-E-L-I-N-A. A beautiful name for a person of equal beauty. I feel for her in a way that I have only just started to comprehend. Her face is like the sun and all of that wishy washy stuff that I never really understood. My life has been full of the two of them, if I'm not with one then I'm with the other. Not a second wasted. In my life I was constantly surrounded by those who love and adore me. My luck is unbelievable and I have really had a life to be proud of, unless you are my mom of course. As I search through my relationships I find bonds to so many people. Bonds with my family, those are strong and made purely of love. A slight bit of reverence in the eyes of Ronnikins and furiously powerful love from my brother. Where my family were poor in money we really mad up for it by being immensely rich in things that could not be priced. Things like experiences and friendships and pride. The kind of which Malfoy and anyone associated to him by anything other than cruel fate would not understand. (The Malfoy family and the Weasley family are related by blood. They are both pure blood families so there is no way that they could be of a fairly pure blood without being related.)

Challenges and worries seem so pointless in death, when you get to look back on your life in a third person perspective, fretting endlessly about the next exam or the next quiddich match. I am very glad that me and my twin played the game of life in such a relaxed way. I do not feel that I spent years of my life worrying about things of no importance. When you die, the only things you take on are your bonds and your experiences. Luckily I have impossible amounts of both of them and this is largely to do with my brother. We worked hard for each other. If one or the other of us was really sad or unexplainably depressed then the other one of us would always know just what to say to make the sad on feel on top of the world. I cannot really remember any time without him or Angelina, probably because the times without them are not worth remembering. I feel the pain that he feels now. Away from me and with no one to say that one little line that can cheer him up. I know just what to say but I cannot say it. I know that he can feel it thought. He can feel my presence. He may be sad but he won't stay sad for long. Sadly he has lost the spring in his step. I pray that he doesn't lose it forever. I hope he will remember the good times, the things that I said and the way I would help him, and that he will let the memory of me help him out of the dark. I hope he looks back with pride and not remorse.

As I delve deeper into the bonds that I share with so many people, the truth of their feelings is awesome. I am so touched to have been touched by so many people and to have had the opportunity to touch so many other people's lives. My particular area of expertise gained me a lot of admirers, especially at Weasley's Wizarding Weases. Many people looked up to me, not just because of my position of power and responsibility but also because of the way I ran the shop. My constant upbeat tempo (courtesy of George) made me admirable and extremely easy to bond with. This is why, for every evil name in my memory, there are three brilliant names that command jut as much power. We were never alone and that made us stronger. I have no reason to believe that we lost the war, if that was what it was. Anyway, I have so many memories and only an infinitely long time to unlock them all so, let's get cracking.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The first prank

The first things that I remember about my childhood are very care free and fun, much the same way that I tried to live my life. Children have always fascinated me, their pure and untainted view on life is wonderful and their boundless energy is unfathomable (big word that.) Me and 'Georgie' were never pure though. We were cute, oh yes very cute I'll give us that, unbelievably cute. But, from as far back as I remember, we were always...Mischievous, and our first taste of the almighty prankdom came when we were about 3 years old.

Me and George were playing with the marbles that we had been given for Christmas, rolling them across the bumpy, dining room floor, and trying to determine at what speed to roll them up each hill so that they would reach the top without coming back or flying away. One time, the game became a little scary when one, unfortunately placed marble and one painfully surprised mom, both went flying through the air. I caught the marble, it flew right into my hand, but mum had fallen quite hard on the floor. Guiltily we went over to help mum up and decided eventually that she was OK, however, during this, a plan was forming in my mind. When I looked over at my brother there was a devious glint in his eye and I knew that I had one to.

From that moment, me and George were pranksters.

We decided on Charlie's room as the target, we spread all of the marbles on the floor in equal rows until they were perfect (a few were slightly off due to the floor being misshapen.) Once we had perfected the prank itself we walked away and sat on the stairs, far enough away that we wouldn't be suspected, close enough that we could see and hear everything.

Charlie walked up the stairs, right past us. After giving us an inquisitive look (another big word) he continued, right into the trap.

There was a CRASH of Charlie hitting the floor quite hard, then the slight tinkle of marbles cascading from the walls. Silence ruled the entire house for a few seconds, then ..."BILL"

However good and perfect my eldest brother may seem now, there are some things that you remember as brothers, and one of them is parts of their history that they would like everyone to forget. My brother Bill used to be the master prankster, many of our early pranks resembled some of Bill's tricks almost exactly. Even to this day we sometimes asked Bill for advice on the latest prank that we are working on. He has a style that is hard to obtain, I can't think, for the life of me, why he gave up pranking.

Along with giving us the inspiration for many of our early pranks, he also made an amazing smokescreen for us to work behind. We did all of the work and he got all of the credit for it (or blame, depending on how you want to look at it.) We spent many years without sustaining a single punishment. The problem came when Bill left to continue his life in the richer parts of the world and the pranks continued.

Once Mum found us out we were instantly blamed for every prank that had ever occurred in our house, including those performed by Bill. Bill was now perfect in our Mum's eyes which was the main factor in determining why he has such a good reputation now.

Our first prank was the most defining moment of my life, so defining that I kept that one marble that I caught and had it turned into a necklace of sorts. I had it made on the first ever hogsmede trip, I called it my "One secret." It was mine, the only thing that I did not share with George. I wore it until the day that I died. Now I have passed it on to George, in the hope that he will understand and respect it in the way that he will respect my memory.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Hogwarts**

With our powerful ally of our cuteness rapidly decreasing but our stealth and skill at prankdom ever increasing, we suddenly found ourselves in the perfect place to train, Hogwarts!

Hogwarts is a place where no amount of cute can buy you anything but pranks and a certain reckless style can buy the world. We got ready months in advance for Hogwarts, we gathered equipment (slipping into the more incriminating shops at Diagon Alley while Mum was stuck talking to one of her many Many friends of whom she could talk to for hours.) We learnt all of the latest techniques from certain people, it is amazing what you can find on the weird box thing that dad brought home one day. He said it was a Puter? So with all of this new knowledge under our belts, we readied ourselves to get in the car and trundle off to platform 9 and ¾.

The morning went as smoothly as it ever does. Mum shouted herself hoarse when she found one of our failed experiments behind our cupboard (How could we know that it would seep through the back and ruin half of our wardrobe? Mum had to knit us both horrid jumpers for Christmas to compensate! Ever wonder where that tradition came from ?) it is obvious to see that that was the experiment we regret the most. After Mum had made enough sound energy to boil 1000 eggs we finally set off.

The train journey was very cool. We made friends with Lee Jordan who would eventually become the only one to gain anywhere near the same level of trust with us as we had in each other. It took a while to get to that point but he was always a friend to us. He was often the target of our joke pranks. His acceptance of the fact is probably what made him such a good friend.

We always had two kinds of pranks:

The joke prank; A prank that is just for a joke, it never made any harm to the recipient and would only embarrass them to the point of laughing. It would never be too harsh to make anyone with a sense of humour get angry.

The revenge/action prank; A prank which was usually used against teachers or Slytherins, this is used to humiliate or (on rare occasions) harm other people.

Even with all of this knowledge and schemes of what we would do once we got to school, nothing could prepare us for the castle itself. Nothing that Charlie or Bill or even Percy could have said would have readied us for the sight. I swear that on the first day of every year, the teachers group together to enchant the school because it never looks quite as impressive as the first time you set eyes on it.

Anyway, past that little stammer, we were finally aloud into the castle, after years of waiting, of watching on tiptoes as Bill then Charlie and finally Percy left on the train to experience the joys and opportunities that Hogwarts had to offer. Now it was our turn and we were not going to waste it. The change of emotions in our hearts was furious. One moment we were transfixed by the awesome beauty of the castle, the next we were inside and we had full prank mode engaged. As our eyes roamed the hall, looking for hiding places and possible secret passages, our brains were in over drive working our what prank we could perform where. We were also surveying the people, seeing who we thought would be most likely to be our targets and who would be our friends. One of the prime targets that we chose (how blind we were) was Angelina! I guess I don't believe in love at first sight.

The sorting was about to take place so that rapidly became the foremost object in our minds, of which there were many things. We did not know what exactly comprised the sorting but we knew that it was nothing as bad as what we would go on to lead Ron to believe two years later. We had been joking on the train with Lee Jordan about how it would be to be in different houses but in reality it would be crushing to be in anything but Gryffindor. Three of our brothers had already been through the sorting and all of them had gotten into Gryffindor so the pressure was on. Not so much as maybe Ron or Ginny had it but it was definitely there. The sorting hat was introduced while all of the first years looked incredulously at it. Until it burst into song, we were all becoming increasingly confused and relieved as to the nature of the sorting process. The delightful little song was sung and each person was called up to put on the hat. After the first person had done it with not a scratch, we were all much less worried about the test and more worried about the outcome.

Our real worries started there. We were so different from our older brothers, maybe Bill the least, but we were almost certain that our differences would stretch to our houses. I stepped up to the stall and had the hat placed on my head. At first I was very surprised by the way that the voice was not talking to me from outside but seemed to be coming from inside my head. Soon after I had gotten over that brief distraction, I became quite annoyed by the things that the hat was saying. It told me that I should be in Ravenclaw. It said that the capacity that I had to learn was quite large and that it would be best suited for Ravenclaw but I fought back. Not only had I already chosen my house, I would not be the one who got into Ravenclaw with all of the cleverclogg's while even my most aspirational of my brothers got into Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw. So, after 2 minutes of arguing, the hat finally shouted out and it wad Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw that came out of its (Mouth?).

George also had a mind battle with the hat. You could see the different expressions flitting across his face as he was dismayed to also have been offered Ravenclaw and how his resolve strengthened when he got into the argument fully. He also got into Gryffindor and was joyful as he took the seat next to me. Most of our intended targets got into Slytherin as expected. A few got into Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw but only one got into Gryffindor, Angelina.

The appearance of the feast after Dumbledore's influential wards pleased us greatly. We had a lot to learn and only a few years to do it in. So, let the games BEGIN!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4-Model Students

For much of our first year we appeared to be model students . We performed our pranks in secret and were very focused and determined in lessons. We did all of the homework to the highest standard and we learnt all of the spells much quicker and stronger than anyone else. We saw potential in every scrap of information. Every spell could be used in pranks, every trick was practised until it was second nature. Our pranks benefited greatly. Before we had been taught by the lessons and the homework but now we were creating. Powering through the work to find the latest ingredient in our schemes. We loved every minute of it, everything was so fascinating and there was so much to learn. Our pranks were really becoming very popular and feared at the same time. The problem was that we were going in the opposite direction from our pranks.

We had kept up the façade so well, what with using the marauders map that we found in our first week in a fantastic draw in Filch's office and the many secrecy tricks that we had learned from our time before Hogwarts, we were not even expected to be behind the pranks. In fact, because of our avid alertness in lessons and our frequent completion of homework, we were being tagged as "Book worms" or "Dorks". This was a problem as the mysterious person/people behind the pranks were getting so popular while we were actually loosing any popularity that we had gotten before.

To combat this, we came up with a plan to try and get us involved with the suspicions. We started by adding our initial "W" to the centre of the pranks. We would leave it plastered to people's heads as a calling card or it would be clearly visible in the centre of any explosion or shower of sparks. People started to suspect, just as we had hoped. Glances in the classroom, people looking quizzically at us before they realises that we were looking back. We were getting an air of mystery that we were perfectly at home in. Lee Jordan asked us once whether it was us performing the pranks and we had to lie to him. But after we winked and he smirked, not knowing whether we were double bluffing or whether we were actually the pranksters.

Things settled down and we got into the roles of mysterious persons, making sure that we were seen at the scene of the crime or that wherever we could we would involve the colour orange in the pranks. People were getting more and more curious as we were getting more and more experimental with our pranks but we still were not getting the full recognition. People would say to each other,

"It can't possibly be them, they are Book worms remember?"

This annoyed us even greater still so we decided to put on something big. We called it "The day of the PRANK!"

The day started as normal. People got up and got ready for the day, as normal. They came downstairs to eat, as normal. The first signs of anything abnormal occurred when everyone who was in school was in the dining hall. The doors swung shut and the bars from behind the door slide across to lock them from the other side.

Small pops started to reverberate around the room, coming from the pipes. They came from everywhere, pinging from seemingly random positions in the room. By now everyone had put down their food and had started to watch and listed, bewildered. They looked round at every ping until it became too fast for anyone to differentiate from one ping to another. The racket in the room rose to an alarming level until people could no longer hold a conversation with the person sitting next to them without using a sonorus charm. (Amplifies the voice) Then suddenly there was two seconds of painful silence where no one dared make a noise. Then

BANG

Chaos ensued as stink bombs poured from the pipes directly above the teachers table, spraying everyone with a filthy liquid until every white shirt or showing piece of skin was soaked and stained. Fireworks exploded in every corner with the famous "W" and that combined with the shouting and pandemonium of hundreds of freaked our witches and wizards caused some quite hilarious results. The magically enchanted celling started pulsing every neon colour under the sun so that the great hall looked more like a disco party. People started to sing and fight at the same time due to the momentary madness, many people got hit with stray spells which caused their hair to fall out or their head to expand to the size of a balloon. Waterfalls started flowing from the walls and many smelly people jumped into them to try and cleanse themselves before jumping out again shrieking at how unbelievably cold it was. A giant majestic golden ribbon rose to the air, seeming to catch everyone's attention and everything disappeared. All the stink bomb packets faded, the waterfalls dried up and the fireworks ended, leaving a slight trace of sparks in the air. The ribbon started to shape itself into a giant W. Me and George walked casually up to the teachers table, not a spot of filth on us, and we bowed a long and over dramatic bow as the ribbon continued to complete the rest of our name leaving "Weasley" floating in the sky for what seemed like an age. No one talked until the ribbon drifted softly to the ground, still keeping the shape of the "Weasley" until the last second and then crumpling down to the floor in a heap of brilliant gold.

That seemed to bring everyone out of the stupor and they erupted in applause, slipping and sliding in their drenched and smelly clothes. The teachers were still too shocked to issue a punishment and we all continued the day as normal. Many people missed the first couple of lessons because everyone in the school apart from us needed to shower badly. Lots of people were allowed into the prefects bathrooms where temporary shower cubicles were set up.

We walked with our heads held high from that day forth, finally getting all of the credit for every ingenious plan that we devised. We did not show our interest in lessons any more, taking rapid notes when no one was looking but appearing lazy when anyone decided to check on us. We had a name to uphold and there was no pain in this name. We were commonly referred to as the next generation of Marauders to people who knew what that name meant. We went quickly from one of the least popular pairs of people to by far the most popular first years or even maybe students in the school. The teachers did not always show their appreciation for the pranks very well but you could often see Professor McGonagall smirking when Marcus Flint got a vat of Goo all over him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5-The Calm

Our second year was very calm and carefree. We watched the world fly by as we lazed by the lake or spent endless days just talking. This is a state that I would come to crave in my later years that were only worry, only pain and grief.

We had a very odd Defence against the Dark Arts teacher that year. He was really really small, like, professor Flitwich small, and he was obviously really clever. We were only in second year of course so he wasn't really teaching us anything incredibly tasking but he just had that kind of presence, someone who demanded respect. He would often go off on long tangents that were really interesting but wouldn't really get us anywhere in what we were actually meant to be studying. Because of this, by the end of the year we knew loads of really important stuff that came up in about fifth year but we barely scraped the end of year test.

The only real challenge that we had that year was getting used to being known as the pranksters. Nah, the read excitement started in third year with the arrival of Harry Potter into our midst. We were shocked, we had always heard stories about how he had saved the generation higher than us from the reign of Lord Voldemort. Since we were kids we had thought of him as a kind of all powerful toddler but here he was as a normal, fairly bog-standard kid. That wasn't the most shocking however, that came when we learned that our slightly pathetic younger brother had managed to become best friends with the Boy Who Lived, and he also made friends with a GIRL! We were so proud of him, maybe he could turn out well after all.

He certainly seemed to be in the centre of all of anything exiting in the years to come. When it came to Harry, we saw that so many people seemed to treat him as if they already knew who he was because of the stories that they had heard of him, who they really knew was the all-powerful toddler but Ron told us that poor Harry did not even remember anything before he was handed into the care of the most detestable muggles we thought could ever exist. We decided to try and get to know the real Harry Potter, not the toddler, and we would not exclude him from the prank list just because he was "Special".

When Harry got into the Quiddich team at such a young age, we knew that however much Harry was just a normal person, the abnormalities were sure to follow in his wake. Speaking of Quiddich, we had only just got into the team at the end of second year after years of stealing brooms and attempting to practice but little Harry, the prat, got in the first timer he ever used a broom. Not saying that he didn't deserve it, no, we had seen our brother play before he left Hogwarts and he was good but Harry just seemed to understand the very chemistry of the broom. He had not trouble going where he wanted to go and at the speed that he wanted to go at. He was a natural if ever we saw one, and the youngest seeker in THE WHOLE CENTUARY!

Even after everything that he had done and had achieved by that point in his life he was much more humble than most of the people that we had ever met. Malfoy on the other hand, if he had achieved half of what Harry had done by that time in his life his head would have been bulging so much that he had to go to madam Pomfrey's to get it surgically reduced, hopefully without magic and in the most painful way possible.

At the end of third year something weird happened again between the "Golden Trio" as they would later be known. They were not famous as a trio from the start but they were always together. The weird thing involved professor Quirrel and how he mysteriously vanished. No one quite knows what happened in that room on the third floor but very quickly everyone went back to drooling Harry Potter the all-powerful toddler who had already defeated Lord Voldemort (gasp! I know) as a baby and had now defeated the next most evil wizard, professor Quirrel!

It was painful to watch Harry leave Hogwarts and go back to his fat muggle uncle and thin muggle aunt who were so beautifully described by the school that they hated so much (Hogwarts, get it?) and the look on his face as he trudged off with them was utterly depressing. Ron didn't stop talking about the other two the entire holidays, he talked about Hermione especially over that holiday, that is the first inkling that we got than ton my just have had a crush. Unfortunately at that time it looked as if Hermione was going to fall for the hero rather than the sidekick, just because that is the way these stories usually go isn't it.


End file.
